Page 11 of Dark Rebel's Fortune

"Or incredibly pathetic," Fenella muttered, though without real conviction.

"Don't be so cynical," Jasmine said. "It's okay to admit you're a little excited."

Fenella shot her a glare that held no real heat. "I'm not completely opposed to seeing him," she conceded grudgingly. "But I'm not planning our everlasting, immortal future together either."

Jasmine grinned. "Of course not. Not yet."

4

KYRA

Kyra pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the airplane window, watching as the landscape below transformed from the azure blue of the Mediterranean to the rugged, mountainous terrain of western Iran. Patches of green dotted the otherwise arid landscape, villages and small cities clustered in the vast expanse.

Her pendant felt warm and alive against her skin, a near-constant sensation since they'd crossed into Iranian airspace. Was it warning her of danger she was unaware of? After two decades of relying on its guidance she'd learned to interpret its subtle communications, but this steady warmth was new.

"Excited to be back?" Yamanu asked, glancing out the window.

"Yes." She cast him a smile. "I'm excited to see my sisters."

Her only memory of Tehran was of the asylumand her escape from it, but those memories were vague. She'd been so heavily drugged back then that she had a hard time forming coherent memories. Still, the fragmented visual clips stored in her mind were enough to guess what had been done to her, and she was grateful for not remembering more.

Jasmine had said something about the Clan Mother's ability to retrieve her memories, but unless the goddess could do so selectively and retrieve only the memories before the asylum, Kyra preferred not to remember anything rather than remembering that dark time. If she was unable to process those memories, they might break her, and she needed to be as whole as she could be for her family.

Yamanu nodded, his pale eyes showing a depth of understanding. "Home soil has a way of stirring things up, even when the memories aren't always welcome."

The Guardian somehow grasped the strange duality of returning to a place that should feel like home but instead felt like enemy territory. Had he been through something similar?

She wanted to ask, but that type of conversation required privacy.

Instead, her mind drifted to the cover story Onegus had supplied them with.

"You'll be traveling as the Al-Nouri family," the chief had explained, distributing passports and identification papers. "A wealthy merchant from Tabriz, his wife, his brother and sister-in-law, plusbodyguards and servants. The documentation should pass scrutiny, with or without Yamanu's shrouding."

The forged documents were impeccable and indistinguishable from legitimate government-issued IDs. The clan's resources were impressive.

"We'll start our descent in about half an hour," the pilot announced.

Max pushed to his feet. "We should change into our disguises."

Around the cabin, team members began pulling duffel bags from overhead compartments and extracting folded garments.

Max handed Kyra her bag—the one Eva had prepared with the specially modified traditional clothing and fat suit.

Jade and the two pureblooded Kra-ell females, Rishba and Asuka, withdrew similar garments from their bags, as did the men, pulling out long caftans and small, simple turbans.

"Eva's been busy," Kyra remarked, running her hand over the fabric of the abaya.

Yamanu's lips quirked into a small smile. "These aren't from Eva. Jade and one of the Guardians went shopping for the rest of the stuff. Only yours has the special modifications."

Jade nodded from across the aisle, where she was already unfolding a plain black abaya. "Standard stuff is easy enough to find," she said.

Kyra lifted the fat suit and examined the variousstraps. "I can't put it on out here. I'm going to the bathroom."

"Need help?" Max asked, his lips quirking up in a suggestive smile.

"I think I can manage," Kyra said dryly but returned his smile.

His consistent good humor was both ridiculous and endearing. It was also enviable, and she wondered if she could learn to be more like Max. It seemed like a more fun way to live, even if it was sometimes forced.

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